| Sad
story - I always hoped it
would return to Prince Wm Sound, Alaska
More
of the story of EVOS
Knox Village Soup Citizen
April 6, 2005
http://rockland.villagesoup.com/AandE/story.cfm?storyID=53259
Stephen
Olson: The double-cross
A good friend who I'll call "Jack" for the purposes of this
story turned up last week, looking tanned and fit.
"What are you doing home?" I asked.
He'd just left for his usual 60-day rotation on an oil tanker, and
should have been somewhere between Japan and the Persian Gulf, riding on
top of a million and a quarter barrels of crude oil.
"It's a sad story," he said, "often told." He had
joined the ship in Singapore, made one trip to the Gulf, then back to
Japan. In Japan a replacement crew of Indians had come aboard, and the
American crew had packed their bags and flown back to the United States.
To anyone familiar with the American Merchant Marine, this story is
absolutely familiar.
In order to maximize profits, shipping companies "flag-out"
American vessels. A ship is taken out of American registry, and
transferred to a "flag of convenience" country such as Panama
or Liberia. This frees the owner to hire cheap foreign sailors and avoid
strict regulations. It also allows them to avoid being held accountable
for spills and accidents.
What makes this very familiar ritual worthy of notice is the history of
the ship in question. Lately she's been known as the SeaRiver
Mediterranean as she plied the world's oceans. But at her launch in
1986, her stack was painted with the overlaid Xs that are the insignia
of Exxon. On her stern she bore the name Exxon Valdez.
The Valdez was built to carry oil from the port of Valdez, Alaska.
Valdez is the southern end of the pipeline carrying oil from Alaska's
North Slope oil fields. When the pipeline opened in 1977 it created
demand for a whole class of new tankers to carry the oil to West Coast
ports. They had to be American-flag ships.
The great protector of the American sailor is called the "Jones Act
of 1928," a protectionist law intended to help the American
Merchant Marine. It requires that any ship operating in "Intracoastal
trade" must be American-flagged, built, and crewed.
Because of the Jones Act a ship carrying crude between two American
ports such as Valdez and San Francisco must be an American vessel. A
ship carrying crude from Venezuela to Texas can be flag of convenience
ships.
Lots of Mainers sail in the crews of these ships. With only a minute's
thought I can name a dozen people who live within 10 miles of Belfast
who make or made their living in tankers. These high-paid jobs are the
traditional occupation of Mainers.
Three years after her launch, the Valdez went aground leaving Valdez.
Ten million gallons of crude oil spilled out of her hull before they
brought other ships alongside and salvaged the remaining 42 million
gallons.
In the great clamor that followed Congress passed a law called OPA 90
which created many new regulations. Drug testing became a constant
preoccupation of the Coast Guard, even though the only drug associated
with the spill was alcohol. Double-hulled ships are now mandated for
carrying petroleum cargoes, even though if the Valdez had been
double-hulled instead of single she would have spilled more oil, not
less.
At the same time a law specifically targeted the Valdez, banning her
from Alaska forever.
This bit of Old Testament retribution was conveniently aimed at the big
target, the ship, and ignored the real target, the humans who run the
ships and set the policies that control the crews. The Valdez had
several sister ships, and they were not banned from anywhere, which
suggests that there was no fault in the ship's design.
Exxon is a modern corporation, and did not like to see its Exxon brand
and the overlaid X trademark degraded by pictures of the stricken ship,
her stack emblazoned with the "double cross." So they set up a
holding company named SeaRiver, and transferred all their ships into it.
The next time one gets in trouble the stack insignia won't be a huge
negative advertisement. At the same time they changed the name of the
Exxon Valdez to SeaRiver Mediterranean.
Even with a name change, she couldn't load in Valdez, so after repairs
the ship was sent first to the Mediterranean, then later was put into
trade between the Persian Gulf and Japan, Singapore and Australia.
According to people who sailed on her she had a good safety record and
didn't spill oil. Compared to thrashing up to Alaska in winter
conditions, sailing the Indian Ocean is quite peaceful, and the
Mediterranean was a popular ship with Exxon sailors.
But now that's over. The American fleet shrinks by one, and layoffs may
follow. The ship will spend the rest of her life in the foreign-flag
fleet, until they decide to scrap her.
This is another familiar story. When talking to sailors about where they
went on a ship it often ends with the line, "then we took one last
load of oil to Singapore and rode her to the beach."
"The Beach" is a general term for the ship-breaking yards in
Pakistan and Bangladesh.
The empty ship is run up on the sand, and swarms of workers cut her up
to supply the steel mills of Japan, China and Korea. The workers are
paid $3 a day, and if they're injured that's too bad. Toxic wastes are
spilled all over, but that's not a problem because Pakistan's
environmental regulations are just this side of nonexistent.
The point of the story is not immediately clear. It's how the world
works now.
Outsourcing comes home to Maine. The moral, on the other hand, is
perfectly obvious, best expressed by paraphrasing a Willie Nelson song:
"Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be sailors, don't let 'em
sail tankers, and drive them old tugs, make 'em be telephone mark'ters
and such." |